1. Nothing tests your maternal reflexes like attempting to catch projectile-style vomit so that it doesn't splatter all over your entire house Linda Blair-style. You've never seen a woman run as fast as you will when a mama hears that first dreaded gag.

2. Nothing is more pitiful than hearing your babe, in-between dry heaves, ask you what's happening to her and why won't it stop. You find that you actually begin missing her normal 3:30 pm tantrums, her Energizer Bunny tendencies, and her inability to be silent, ever.

3. Note to self: A green smoothie is the absolute LAST thing you should ever give someone who is suffering from any kind of stomach issue. Also worth noting: green vomit does, in fact, stain walls and everything else it touches.

4. Keeping a curious and toddling one year old out of her big sister's throw-up long enough to clean it up and sanitize any germy (technical term) remnants is my newest party trick. It involves real skill and maniacal scheming and I can now add this to my very short list of talents. You need to plant a garden? Can't help you due to black thumbs. Preventing a babe from finger painting in neon puke? I AM YOUR GIRL!

5. I'd say that we live a 90% organic lifestyle. I don't believe in anti-bacterial lotion and I have been known to let my kids eat off of the ground hoping that it will strengthen their immune systems. With that said, I really, really like Clorox. Nothing makes me feel safer than the smell of bleach when germs have invaded the home front.

BONUS: What should one get in return for catching their offsprings' vomit with their bare hands? What are you rewarded with for holding your daughter's hair while she heaves into a plastic mixing bowl at two in the morning, for being at her beck and call, and staying awake all night just in case she throws up in her sleep? A vacation? A bottle of wine to the face? A pretty new blouse made in a dry-clean only fabric? Nope. The fucking stomach bug is what you get, Mom. Except you get it far more violently and you should get it when you have company in town because nothing screams "WELCOME!" like shoving your baby into their arms, running Kenyan-style up the stairs to empty your insides, and then quarantining yourself into your room while they fend for themselves.

And, because you solidified your campaign for Mom of the Year and must be properly compensated, vomit isn't the only bodily function you have to worry about making it to the bathroom in time for.